So, there we were on our regular Sunday afternoon, just hanging out in front of her television and watching Walking Dead episodes, when we heard a car pull into her driveway. The rumble of the engine pulling in wasn't a big surprise. Mackie's house was at the end of a well-hidden dead end and cars were always turning around in her driveway. We were curled up on the hideous couch, green and white stripes with huge pink flowers, completely enthralled in all the blood and gore we were watching. Maybe that was why we didn't hear the engine stop, or the car door slam closed or the soft footfalls on the concrete path, bordered in more pink flowers of course. The loud banging reverberating through the living room made us both jump. Our eyes met and we dissolved into giggles at how ridiculous our behavior was. Mackie was clutching her stomach, practically doubled over as she headed toward the door. I'd managed to make it as far as my knees when the pounding sounded again, accompanied by the dulcet tones of Mackie's friends calling for her to open up. Our laughing stopped abruptly and I stood so fast I got a bit light headed. Mackie froze, eyes wide, breaths short.
"What the hell are they doing here Mackie?" I whispered through gritted teeth, fist clenched at my sides. She shook her head rapidly, as if someone had turned her into a sideways bobble head.
"I don't know," She whispered quickly. She cracked the thankfully solid door just the tiniest bit. I was already backing toward the kitchen so I could get around the corner and avoid being seen. I had to deal with them all week. My weekends were supposed to be torment free. Why now? Why this time? What was so special or so big it couldn't have waited until tomorrow morning? Rounding the corner into the kitchen, I sank to the floor, shaking. Why were they here? I couldn't get my brain past the sudden collision of my two realities. My fingers unconsciously rubbed across the bracelets piled on my wrist, every one of them a gift from Mackie for some occasion, or sometimes just because. My breathing evened out as I heard hurried footsteps. Mackie's freshly painted black toenails came into my line of sight and I lifted my heavily lined eyes to her blue ones.
"You have to go, Grey, now." She whispered, barely looking at me as she moved to the fridge and started pulling out carrots and other healthy snacks. I stood and walked over to the tray. Snatching up a carrot I held it in front of her face, my eyebrows lifting nearly to my hairline as I gave her a pointed look. She shrugged and her face reddened. Rolling my eyes, I dropped the overly bright vegetable back onto the tray.
"I was serious, you have to leave," She whispered at me again. It was only then that I heard the giggles from the living room. I thought she'd gotten rid of them. After all, this was our day to hang out. I was her best friend and I'd been relegated to a few hours a week as it was. Now her friends were taking over that time as well? She picked up the tray she'd piled with vegetables I knew she'd never eat and started walking back to the living room with a fake smile plastered on her face. For a moment I couldn't move. She just expected me leave, like it wasn't any big deal but it was. I never cared about her ignoring me at school, after all I knew how much being friends with fakes meant to her. I could handle that because in the end, she chose weekends with me. So what if no one but our parents knew we were friends. I couldn't stop myself from grabbing her arm. Maybe, if I had just left, like she wanted, it would have blown over as usual, but I wasn't thinking clearly. All I knew was it wasn't right, what she was doing.
"What the hell, Mackie?" I whispered, though I wanted to shout, "Get rid of them!" I was biting out the words and my voice cracked. The trembling had returned. My eyes darted in the direction of the giggling. I couldn't deal with what had happened.
"You know how important this is to me!"
"Come on! I only get a few hours as it is when you even acknowledge me. This can't wait until tomorrow? You see those fakes every other damn day!"
"You're hurting me!" She hissed. I looked at where I was gripping her arm and realized I was starting to see the indents of my fingers. I let go like she was on fire and stepped back. "Just get out!" She left and a minute later I heard her talking to the others. They were clueless to our fight. Somehow, we'd managed to keep the whole fight in whispers. I walked home in a daze after slipping out the back door.
It didn't occur to me then that anything was different from any other time we fought. I went home and threw myself down on my neon comforter and waited for the call I knew I would get. She'd find a way to make the call, sneak off or go to the bathroom or something. I fell asleep still waiting. Even through Monday's usual hell, and Tuesday's, I waited. I kept telling myself she'd call. It didn't matter that she'd never held out so long before. I should have called her, but I kept telling myself that wasn't what we did. Wednesday night, I took off the mass of bracelets I'd always refused to remove before. I quit waiting for the call that was never coming. The only person, other than my parents, who called my cell was Mackie and it was staying stubbornly silent. Reaching out to her was never an option in my mind and I couldn't figure any reason for her silence other than her giving up on us as friends.
When the ear piercing jangle of the ringer on my phone woke me Sunday morning, I actually fell out of bed. I tried to untangle myself from the covers while grabbing at my phone since I was convinced that Mackie was finally calling. My conviction lasted only as long as it took her mom to choke out a request for me to come to the house.
I sat on that silly flowered couch, not moving, barely hearing her mom. My mind refused to acknowledge what I was being told. Mackie had gone out with her friends last night. They were on their way home when it happened. The other driver never even tried to stop. It was over in an instant. She never felt a thing.
